DAMIEN
.
.
I moved to the other end of it, the cold granite of the tombstone pressing against my hand for just a second long before I pulled it away, throwing the flower in my hand to the floor, watching the petals scattered like littler pieces of something broken.
It felt like it was just a few months ago, not fourteen, since we stood here for the first time, the raw gaping wound of losing him still fresh and the invisible bone in my throat didn’t seem to want to go off, stuck right there, all of this was a reminder of the day the world shifted on its axis.
I fixed my shades back to where they were, shield my eyes from the weak sunlight that somehow felt too bright that day, moving towards my brother who had both hand crossed in front of him, a silent sentinel staring at the grave
